Who Is Rogue?
by lurking-in-the-shadows
Summary: You've always seen Rogue as the sweet but untouchable southern belle, but do you really know what's going on in her head? Do you want to?
1. Rogue

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. All belongs to Bryan Singer and the Marvel gods.  
  
Title: Who Is Rogue?  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Author: lurking_in_the_shadows  
  
Summary: You've always seen Rogue as the sweet but untouchable southern belle, but do you really know what's going on in her head? Do you want to?  
  
Dedication: To my best friend (you know who you are). Thanks for all the help. I love you girl!  
  
Author's Note: Sorry it's not that long, people. I'm probably going to post more chapters from other people's POV's. Please review. Good or bad, I appreciate your input.  
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Rogue's POV  
  
You don't know me. I do not have a name, an age, an identity. I am not a person. I was born yesterday yet I have lived a thousand years. I am a million people rolled into one and stuffed in the body of a twenty-one year old girl. I've seen things you couldn't imagine and felt things I'd prefer you didn't. I've gone through torments I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.  
  
I am Cody, the seventeen year old boy from Meridian, Mississippi, who thought that if he could make the baseball team he could make Marie like him and maybe, just maybe, make his father proud of him.  
  
Because of that boy, I despise sports, the boy I put in a coma with one kiss. He is the reason I blush when a pretty girl walks by, the person that will stay forever in my mind as a seventeen year old boy.  
  
I am Erik Lenshire, the vengeful Jewish man who survived a Nazi prison camp in Poland when his parents did not and could not find hope again. A man who can not believe that humanity would accept people like us. I am both Erik and the man he became. Magneto.  
  
Erik is the reason I play chess with the professor on weekends, whom I call, on occasion, "Charles." Magneto is the reason that I sometimes have to fight myself to stay with the X-men, the reason I must constantly convince myself that I am doing the right thing, that I am on the right side.  
  
I am Logan, a man with no memories, a ruthless fighter, often more animal than man, the Wolverine. I am ageless.  
  
He is the reason I flirt with Jean, crave cigars and Canadian beer, and hate hospitals and all that go with them. Because of Logan, whenever I am angry, I have a sudden urge to shove foot long adamantium claws into someone's chest, then am confused when I realise that I don't have claws. I have his nightmares, I remember his pain for it is my own.  
  
I am a million others all fighting for dominance, fighting to be heard. How could you know me when I don't know myself? 


	2. David

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. All belongs to Bryan Singer and the Marvel gods.

Title: Who is Rogue?

Rating: PG

Author: lurking-in-the-shadows

Summary: You've always seen Rogue as the sweet but untouchable southern belle, but do you really know what's going on in her head? Do you want to?

Dedication: To my reviewers, all two of them, Vegeta7423 and Abigail Marie. Thanks so much Abigail! Vegeta, you don't count, you're my best friend and you feel obligated to review. Just joking, I appreciate the both of you for reviewing, please continue to do so.

Author's Note: There is one small curse word in the last line of the chapter, you have been warned. Once again, please review. Good or bad, I appreciate your input.

David's POV

I thought I knew her. The brown haired girl with a soft voice and even softer eyes. The girl I made the baseball team for even though I hate the game, all sports for that matter. I thought I knew Marie D'Acanto. I guess I was wrong.

We sat in her room and she told me of her plans to journey to Alaska, travelling through Canada to reach her destination. I thought she was insane. We were just small town Mississippi kids and she planned to go to the land of ice and snow? I had never even seen snow and I knew for a fact that she hadn't either. When she lay down on her bed beside me I thought I could kiss her. That was my mistake.

Her lips were so soft under mine, like silk. She tasted of peaches and sunshine, reeking of innocence. That's when I felt the pull.

It was like nothing I had ever felt before. The rush of life leaving my body. My eyes flew open and I tried to pull away. Suddenly her lips no longer felt like silk, didn't taste of peaches and sunshine. Her rapidly widening eyes met mine and she stared as I writhed in agony, all rapture leaving her face as she watched my torment. My mind screamed at me to escape the pain, to run from the danger, but I was trapped.

It seemed like forever before I was released and, while my mind protested, I finally succumbed to the darkness that overtook my vision.

I was told, by a sweet brown-eyed nurse who, coincidentally, reminded me of Marie, when I finally clawed my way out from the endless void, that I had been out of it in the hospital for three weeks, in a coma she said. All that for one kiss from a slip of a girl from Meridian, Mississippi. It's strange but the first thought that ran through my head was, "I guess Marie isn't going to Alaska anymore." Not the fact that I was in a hospital or that my "girlfriend" was a mutant, but that she wouldn't be going to Alaska. I came to my senses a minute later. I had never felt so violated in my life. All with one little kiss.

I found out later that after I was taken to the hospital, Mr. D'Acanto kicked Marie out of the house, and I was glad that mutie bitch was gone.


End file.
